Into the Light of the Dark Black Night
by Wolcott
Summary: When otherworldy visitor takes a toll on Kurt's life, and Blaine will do whatever he can to protect him. Warning: This story is inspired by the Slender Man Mythos. Scenes are not in chronological order.
1. Chapter 1

Blaine wakes up in his car. His seat is pushed back and he lays in a fetal position, drool leaking out of his mouth and onto the leather. He blinks, squinting his eyes at the streetlight shining in his face. Sitting up, Blaine glances out the window to ascertain his surroundings. It's a highway rest stop, he guesses, although how he got there and why, he has no idea.

He remembers talking to Kurt as they left the Lima Bean, telling him not to worry and that everything was going to be ok. He remembers getting in the car to go home. Blaine swallows. Where the _fuck_ is he? Turning on the car lights, he searches for his iPhone so he can use it to figure out his location. The car is littered with papers; drawings, maps, notes. His iPhone isn't there.

Blaine reaches for the lever between the door and the seat, and the seat jolts upright. He sighs as he looks at the little building in the dark, knowing that it will probably have a map with a big, convenient _you are here_ arrow. He takes a deep breath and opens the car door, stepping out. His heart begins to pound.

The parking lot is empty except for him. He knows that all he has to do is walk the hundred feet to the building, check out the map, and get out of here, but his legs won't move. A gust of wind blows through, and Blaine can see the silhouette of trees in the distance rustle.

_Why_ was he here? Blaine didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about what stupid idea he must have had to make him do this head, what event might have triggered the decision to leave. He closes the door and takes a step forward.

* * *

The Warblers are on their way back from Regionals. Blaine and Kurt are snuggled in the back of the bus, tucked into a corner and wrapped up in their own little world. They were teased about it at first, various boys saying things like "About _time_!" or "Love birds kissing in the dead of night!" but now it's gotten late and half of them are asleep while the other half are talking or listening to music on their headphones.

Kurt nuzzles his nose against Blaine's neck. Blaine shifts, resting his body on the window. Their lips touch lightly and Blaine smiles. They didn't win, but he didn't care. He had something _so_ much better than a trophy. Kurt presses harder and Blaine's mouth opens, deepening the kiss. They haven't done much actual making out in the couple days since Blaine confessed his feelings, and every gentle brush of tongue is exhilarating.

The kiss breaks and Kurt pulls back. Blaine can only see flashes of him in the dark as they speed by the highway streetlights, but he can at least tell that Kurt is smiling. He looks a little flushed, his lips wet and swollen. He's absolutely gorgeous and Blaine can't believe how lucky he is.

Kurt is startled for a moment, looking out the window behind Blaine. His eyes widen and his face falls. Blaine frowns and turns to see what it is. There is nothing outside but cars and fields and maybe some woods along the highway.

"Did you see that?" Kurt whispers.

Blaine comes back to face him and shakes his head. "No, what was it?"

"I don't, I mean," Kurt closes his eyes for a moment and breathes deeply. "I guess it was just the light."

"Are you ok?" Blaine asks.

Kurt nods. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

He reaches up a hand and runs his fingers through Kurt's hair. Kurt smiles and kisses him again.

* * *

"Shut up, Seth, you're going crazy!" Kurt yells as he pushes his friend away.

Blaine stops in his tracks. He just came into the library to find some references for a research paper. He didn't mean to walk in on an argument between his boyfriend and their friend. Guessing that they didn't see him, he starts to back away.

"Just _listen_ to me, Kurt." Seth says urgently. "For once in your life, _listen_ to me!"

"I'm _done_, ok? I'm _done_. Seth, we don't believe in any of this shit! God or monsters or demons-"

"It isn't anything _like_ that!"

Blaine backs into a shelf and frowns. He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop but this is _weird_.

"I don't care," Kurt says. "Don't talk to me about it again."

He hears shuffling and Blaine guesses that they're leaving. He ducks behind another shelf, peering through the books as Kurt storms off in a huff. Seth follows after for a few steps before stopping. Seth's shoulders droop and he sighs.

"I know you're there, Blaine."

Blaine winces and comes out from behind the shelf. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's ok," Seth says, turning to face him. He looks tired.

"You mind if I ask what all that was about?" says Blaine. He doesn't want to pry, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

Seth closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," says Seth, nodding. He looks up. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"You, you wouldn't let anything hurt him, would you?" he asks.

Blaine frowns. "What, Kurt?"

"Yeah."

"Of course not," says Blaine. "Why would you ask?"

Seth claps his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "Promise me."

Blaine glances around the room, confused. "What?"

"Promise me you won't let anything hurt him," Seth hisses. "Promise me you'll protect him."

"Protect him from _what_?" Blaine asks, shrugging Seth off.

Burying his face in his hands, Seth groans. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

* * *

Blaine picks up a picture off the mantle. A five-year-old Kurt sits on his mother's lap, grinning at the camera. Kurt's mother is beautiful, and Blaine sees that they have the same mouth and nose. He puts it back in its place next to a photo of Mr. Hudson cradling baby Finn.

"Hey, Kurt?" he asks.

Kurt pops his head out of the kitchen. "Yeah, Hon?"

"How did your mom die?"

Blaine hopes he isn't being invasive, but Kurt has told him about his mother's funeral and often mentions how much he misses her, how he can smell her perfume in certain chests of drawers. He just wants to know everything about Kurt, because he loves him.

Kurt steps into the living room, smiling softly. He picks up the picture Blaine examined and drags his thumb across the surface. Kurt tells Blaine the story, his eyes welling up a little, and Blaine kisses him on the cheek. He tells Kurt he loves him, and Kurt says his mother would have just adored Blaine. Kurt puts the picture back and returns to the kitchen to finish up the dinner he's preparing for the both of them.

Blaine smiles and sits down on the couch. He's so glad Kurt can share these things with him. It was so tragic what happened.

Blaine sits up. The accident was tragic.

No. The disease was…

No, the…

He rubs his eyes. Kurt _just_ told him. He _knows_ what happened. It was tragic and sudden and, and…

"Dinner is served," Kurt says, standing over him and giving a small bow.

Blaine smiles and stands up, following Kurt into the kitchen.

* * *

Although Blaine is sure he would never admit it, Kurt really likes to draw. Little moleskin sketchbooks filled with designs of potential outfits are tucked away in various parts of Kurt's bedroom, and Blaine is always delighted to discover one. He finds this particular one hidden away underneath a shoebox in Kurt's closet when he goes in there looking for the scarf he wants to barrow.

He grins as he opens it, anticipating little pen and ink sketches of coats and hats and such. Blaine's smile fades and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he sees the first image. A man. A tall man. _Too_ tall. His arms are too long and his waist is too this and his face is…

Whether his features are obscured by shadows or if he simply doesn't _have_ any, Blaine doesn't know. He turns the page and there the man is again, this time standing crookedly under a streetlight. Blaine quickly flips through the book and realizes that this is all it is, pictures of this _thing_, standing there, under streetlights, under trees, next to swing sets and in doorways. His arms stretch out to the ground, sometimes. Other times, he has many, reaching out toward the viewer.

The familiar but still dreadful feeling of coming across something one was not supposed to see overwhelms Blaine and he slams the book shut, stuffing it back underneath the shoebox. He grabs a scarf, any scarf as he doesn't really care which one that he barrows anymore and leaves the room.

His heart pounds and he wraps the scarf around his neck. Blaine tightens it and for a moment he can't breathe. He leans against the wall, pulling the thing loose. He wants to scream. He wants to pound his fists into something. He wants to curl up into a little ball and cry.

Blaine takes a deep breath and recomposes himself.

* * *

"This is all my fault," Kurt says, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Blaine shines his flashlight around the trashed bedroom briefly before kneeling down next to Kurt. He wraps his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders and presses his forehead to his temple.

"We don't know what happened," Blaine breathes. "Ok? We don't know what happened, this could mean anything."

"Don't you _see_, Blaine?" says Kurt, his voice cracking. "He _took_ him. He took him, just like he took his sister and my mother and just like he's going to take _me_!"

Blaine shakes him. "That's not going to happen, do you hear me? We'll figure this out, ok? I won't let that happen." There is a noise, like something falling, and Blaine aims his flashlight in its direction. Nothing. He licks his lips and turns back to Kurt. "We should get out of here."

* * *

Kurt clutches his coffee cup and sighs. He peers out the window for a moment, frowning. Blaine hates this. He hates that Kurt can't just _tell_ him what's going on, instead of avoiding the issue and insisting that he's fine. He's _not_ fine, obviously. Dark circles hang under his eyes, his hair disheveled. He barely eats during lunch, and has a difficult time staying awake during Warbler meetings.

"Please just talk to me," Blaine says, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "I can help, you just have to tell me first."

Kurt looks up at him with big, wet eyes. "I can't."

"Kurt, _please_." Blaine gives his hand a squeeze. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it, I promise."

Sighing again, Kurt wipes a tear from his cheek. He takes a sip of his coffee and stares down at his trembling hands. "I think someone's following me."

Blaine sits up. "What? Like Karofsky? Do you think he's stalking you?"

"No," says Kurt. "It's not him. I don't even know if it _is_ a him."

"You think it might be a girl?" he asks.

Kurt shakes his head. "No, Blaine, I… oh, god, you'll think I'm crazy." He wipes his eyes again and stares out the window. "I probably am."

"It's ok," Blaine says, cupping his cheek and bringing him back to face him. "Just tell me."

"Blaine, it…" Kurt's eyes well up again. He speaks so softly that Blaine can't hear him.

Blaine frowns. "What?"

"It's not _human_," he says.

"_What_?"

Kurt pushes his hands away and sits back in his chair. "Just forget it."

"No, no, Kurt," says Blaine. "Please, why do you think something's following you?"

"I see it," Kurt says quietly, "in my window at night, or on the road going to and from Dalton."

Blaine nods slowly, taking this in. "What do you see?"

"A man," says Kurt. "I mean, I guess it's a man, I don't know. It doesn't have a face. It just _stands_ there, _staring_ at me. It doesn't have any eyes but I feel it staring. I can _remember_ it."

"Remember it?" asks Blaine, tilting his head.

Kurt nods. "I used to see it when I was a kid, and then I guess it went away for a while. I remember seeing it on the playground when I was there with my mom."

"Have you talked to anyone else about this?" Blaine swallows. "Like, maybe a doctor?"

"I knew it," Kurt says, standing up. "I knew you'd think I was crazy."

"Kurt, wait!" Blaine follows Kurt out of the Lima Bean, holding onto his arm. "I'm sorry, ok?"

They walk through the parking lot to their respective cars. Kurt twists his arm away from Blaine, grasping his hair in frustration. "Just _forget it_, ok?"

"Kurt…"

He turns and points a finger up at Blaine. "I said forget it! Look, I have to go, ok? Just, just don't bring this up again. This conversation never happened."

"Alright," says Blaine as he blinks at him, shocked. He steps forward and puts a hand on his arm. "You know I love you, right?"

Kurt smiles through his tears. "I love you, too."

* * *

Andrew hands him a beer as they scramble up to the deck on the roof of Blaine's house. Blaine's really starting to like hanging out with him, especially as a drinking buddy. He hasn't had a lot of opportunities to get drunk after the Rachel Berry incident, and he's glad to be able to do so in a controlled environment. Blaine trusts Andrew, and trusts himself with him.

There's a hiss as Andrew uncaps his bottle. "Hey, can I ask you something, man?"

"Shoot," says Blaine.

"Do you ever, like," Andrew hands him the bottle opener. "Do ever feel homesick even when you're at home?"

Blaine laughs and uncaps his own bottle. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know, right?" says Andrew. He takes a swig. "That's what I told Seth."

"Seth?"

"Yeah. He said he feels that way sometimes."

Blaine sips at his beer. "Huh. That's weird."

"I told him he feels that way because he's an alien."

Blaine laughs again. "You would."

They clink their bottles together and Andrew clears his throat. "He probably feels like that because he never really _had_ a home, to be honest."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asks.

"Well, like," Andrew sighs and stares up at the stars. "He never knew his parents, and he was never really close to his sister, she was more like a teacher than family, you know? And when she died, he had to just live with her husband, some guy he wasn't even related to."

Blaine thinks about this. "How did his sister die?"

Andrew opens his mouth, but words do not come out. It's just noises, as if someone took the audio track to Blaine's life and warped it at just this moment. Andrew finishes, and Blaine nods, understanding.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine is ten years old and Grandma Lola does not seem to get that he doesn't understand Tagalog. She yells at him from her bench on the other side of the playground while Blaine drops from the monkey bars and gets sand in his hair.

"Grandma," he says as he brushes himself off. "I don't know what you're saying!"

Blaine wishes his mom would stop insisting they spend time together, because they are not going to form a relationship like this. He lets out a dramatic sigh and walks up to her to see what she wants. She grabs his chin and pulls a twig out of his curls as he tries to pull away. She says something to him and Blaine rolls his eyes.

"Grandma, I don't understand you!" he repeats. If he thought about it, he would realize that she doesn't understand him either, but he's ten and he doesn't really think about anything.

He wriggles himself out of her grip and goes bolting towards the slide. He reaches the steps and begins to climb up. It's _so high_ and when he reaches the top, he thinks he can see forever. Blaine gazes out into the world, taking in every little detail of the park. Girls play on the swing set, littler kids dig in the sandbox, while some teenagers play tetherball. Blaine holds his hand over his eyes and squints.

In the parking lot behind his grandmother's bench, a long black car pulls up. A tall man in a black suit steps out, followed by a boy his own age. The boy grips the man's hand as they walk toward the playground and sit down at a bench by Grandma Lola. The boy is kind of puny, and looks pretty shy. Being a friendly sort of kid, Blaine figures he could use a friend. He makes his way down the tube and smiles as he pops out the other end.

He brushes himself off again and approaches the boy and the man he assumes is his dad. A hand grabs his arm, and Blaine turns to see his grandmother. She looks over him, a deep frown set in her face. She says something to him and drags him away.

* * *

Kurt doodles during a Warbler meeting, and Blaine watches. A few inches underneath a drawing of a fancy top hat decked with feathers and bows, Kurt sketches out a tree in long, steady strokes. The tree has no leaves, just bare, skeletal limbs. He taps his eraser against the paper for a moment before moving in to draw again.

Blaine shifts and looks up at Wes at the front of the room to give the appearance of paying attention. Ever since they lost Regionals, the Warblers have also lost their luster. It's not a big deal, and kind of happens after the end of every competition season, but right now the rut is rolling onto Blaine at full force. He doesn't care what set list they do for the South Westerville Nursing Home. He doesn't want a solo, please, please someone else take it.

He lets his eyes fall back to the notebook on Kurt's lap. A tiny figure stands amongst several trees now, his limbs comically long. On the other side of Kurt, Seth takes out a pen and draws a little necktie on the figure. Blaine lets out a chuckle. Kurt continues to sketch out more trees until the weird little man is completely obscured by them.

"Blaine, Kurt," says Wes. "Would you care to repeat your performance of _Candles_ next week?"

Kurt turns to look at him and Blaine shrugs. "Do you want to?"

"Not really," says Kurt. "As much as I loved it, we should do something new."

"Yes, please," says Seth. "New and _substantial_."

"No songs are _ever_ good enough for you," says Jeff from across the room. "Why are you even _in_ the Warblers if you don't like what we do?"

Seth frowns and Wes bangs his mallet, demanding more suggestions for their set list.

* * *

Blaine goes back to the now apparently abandoned house in the daytime. It's just a short walk from Dalton, so no one should even know he's gone. It looms over him like a cavern, seemingly empty but full of secrets. A hollow feeling forms in his chest as he works his way to the back yard. Blaine has been there a hundred times back when it was occupied, and now that it isn't, memories flash through his mind.

He pushes open the sliding glass door and steps inside. The couch and several chairs are turned over, and the tv lies broken on the floor, the screen cracked. Blaine steps around a pile of shattered dishes and heads up the stairs. Papers are scattered everywhere. Sketches, maps, old pieces of homework, and torn pages from books cover the floor like snow. As Blaine reaches the top and enters the hallway, he picks up a piece of sheet music. _Origin of Love_.

Tears sting in his eyes, but he holds them back. This isn't over yet. He won't let himself cry until he knows for sure what happened. Blaine folds the sheet into a square and tucks it into his jacket pocket. When he and Kurt visited the house the other night, they went straight for the first bedroom on the left, but they didn't find anything. Blaine looks to his right, where a door hangs open on his hinges.

He takes a deep breath and steps inside. It's a bedroom, like its counterpart on the other side of the hall, but instead of blue walls, they are green with gold borders. Blaine swallows and walks over to a wooden desk to his right, where a large book lays open.

A bag covers his head before he can get a good look at the book's contents.

* * *

Blaine can tell Andrew is relieved. His shoulders relax as they enter the gallery and they see the large painting in the back. He suspects that _Andrew_ suspected the amount of time Seth had been spending with his boss was inappropriate, but when they see the life-size rendering of Seth sitting at the bookstore counter, Blaine figures that all the extra time was spent on this.

Kurt bites his lip and looks it over. "Yeah, that's him alright."

They have been invited to the gallery before the opening party. Mikhail assures them that he would have invited them to the party itself, but it would be full of boring old people and no one would even think about serving them alcohol.

"So?" says the artist, bouncing on his heals.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, wondering if this guy really needed their approval to validate him or stroke his ego. The painting looks _exactly_ like Seth, to the point where Blaine thinks he can reach out and touch him. The real Seth crosses his arms and stands next to it, frowning.

"Surely, I'm taller than that," he says.

"Nope," says Andrew, clapping a hand on the top of Seth's head. "You are a scrawny hobbit and you always will be. Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Mikhail nods, pushing his rectangular glasses up his nose. "Anything."

Andrew scratches the back of his neck. "I don't mean to like, insult your skill, or whatever, because you obviously _got_ skill, man, but what's the _point_, exactly?"

"I'm sorry?" Mikhail says.

"Like, why bother making a photorealistic painting when you can just take a picture?"

Mikhail sighs and steers Andrew by his shoulders to face the piece head-on. "It's not _photorealistic_, it's _hyperrealistic_."

"What's the difference?" asks Andrew.

"Does that _look_ like a photo?" Mikhail asks, gesturing.

"I guess," Andrew says. "That's what you were going for, isn't it?"

"Look at Seth." Mikhail steers the boy to face his friend (or boyfriend, Blaine isn't really sure about their relationship status).

"Uh-huh?"

He twists him back. "Now look at the painting. It's not a photo. It's a replication of our reality. It has transcended being a copy and has become a reality in itself."

Andrew nods. "I get what you're saying, man, except for one thing."

Mikhail rubs his temple. "Yes?"

"See that guy in the background through the window?" Andrew says, pointing. "His arms are too long."

* * *

His eyes fluttering open, Blaine instinctively pulls Kurt closer to him. He spoons against his body, protecting him, keeping him safe and warm. From where he lies in the bed, Blaine can see the square of light on the wall from where the moon shines through the window.

He blinks, and every muscle in his body tenses. It's here. It stands right at his window; it's elongated shadow casting across them. Blaine can't breathe. Kurt shifts in his arms and turns to face him, his eyes still closed. As buzzing fills his ears, he presses his lips to Kurt's forehead.

_I'm sorry_. He thinks. Feels. He can't. His thoughts become scrambled and confused as his heart beats faster. Blaine tries to focus on Kurt's face before him, but he can't keep his eyes open. He feels like he's walking backwards through water, his mind flashing though the events of the day. He makes love to Kurt. He brings Kurt home from the house. He drags Kurt out of the house. He searches the house with Kurt.

There is a pull, and the images race through his brain like someone put it on rewind. Kurt tells him what's going on. Kurt makes out with him on the bus back from Regionals. He tells Kurt how he feels. Kurt sings _Blackbird._

Blaine snatches onto that memory before it can fly away. He starts to sing, softly, hoping that he can keep this one, just this one, or at least the feeling that comes with the song.

* * *

It's so quiet. Blaine forces his legs to move, step by step, as he slowly makes his way across the dark parking lot. Now he can see the map hanging on a wall underneath a plane of glass, next to some bathrooms and a vending machine. He just has to get there. It's too quiet.

He halts in his tracks and looks around to the highway behind him. It's empty. He can't see or hear any cars. He turns back to the building, a perfect little cube with a single spotlight of where he needs to be.

"I know you're here," Blaine says.

He's met with more silence. Beginning to doubt his situation, Blaine backs up to his car. He'll go. He'll just pick a direction a drive until the sun comes up and then if he's far enough away from home, he'll get a motel and figure things out from there.

His car door is locked. "Oh, come _on_."

Crying out with frustration he looks around the parking lot. "What do you _want_?" He shouts. "What do you want from me? Why am I _here_? Why am I so important to your little game?"

"Who said you were important?"

He freezes. A figure stands on the sidewalk a few feet away from him, holding up his keys.

Blaine gulps. "Who are you?"

"You don't remember me? That's ok, you haven't been remembering a whole lot lately, have you?"

"Let me go," Blaine says, trying to steady his voice.

The figure laughs. "If only it were that easy."

* * *

Seth slams his fists down on the table, causing the other Breadstix patrons to look at them with concern. "_Tell him_," He growls.

Blaine rolls his eyes and grabs Andrew by the arm, dragging him away from their table. "This is so stupid."

Andrew nods. "I know, man, but just play along for a while. So, tell me."

"Ok, so…" Blaine's mouth opens and words come out, but he doesn't know what. He feels like a little kid again, pretending to speak Tagalog but really just spouting nonsense.

"Oh," says Andrew. "That's really sad."

"I know," Blaine says. "C'mon."

They go back to the table. Blaine sits down next to Kurt, who has his face buried in his hands. Andrew sits across from them with Seth, who grips his silverware so hard his knuckles turn white.

"So, Andrew," Seth says through his clenched teeth. "Tell me how Kurt's mother died."

Andrew opens his mouth, fully ready to speak, but then he frowns, and looks at Blaine. "Dude, you _just_ told me."

"You can't remember?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah, I can." Andrew says, rubbing his eyes. "I can. I just, like, can't put it into words."

"No," says Seth. "You _can't_ remember. You're more or less satisfied that you do, but when you think about it, you have no real idea what Blaine just told you. That's how it works, the greater the degree of separation, the less it works."

"Try writing it down," says Kurt.

Blaine unfolds a paper napkin and pulls out a pen. He scribbles down the event/accident/disease that took Kurt's mother away from him and passes it to Andrew.

"Dude, these are not letters."

* * *

Blaine pulls away from Andrew. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_."

"Nothing happened," says Andrew, rubbing his mouth. "Nothing _happened_. Stop freaking out."

"Stop being so god damn _calm_!" Blaine groans and runs his fingers through his hair. "What the hell am I supposed to say to Kurt?"

"Nothing! You don't have to say a thing!" Andrew insists. "Because _nothing happened_."

Blaine gives him a shove. "Just shut up. Just shut your fucking mouth and get away from me."

* * *

Blaine likes to take walks in the wooded area behind Dalton. There's a trail back there, and if you walk far enough, you can find a little pond dotted with lilypads. It's been a week since Kurt told him something was following him, and Blaine can't stop thinking about it. He picks up a stick and digs a little at the ground. Kurt was usually so _rational_. It didn't make sense for him to think something inhuman could be stalking him.

The sun is starting to set. He's ok with that, as he's walked this trail so many times that he practically has it memorized. When Blaine gets to the pond, he will toss rocks in it and think about what to say to Kurt when he brings the matter up again. He knows Kurt asked him not to, but Blaine can't help it. He saw the drawings. Kurt needs _help_.

There is a tree, a tall, thin one, standing a ways off the trail. Blaine squints. It's black, a different color than the other trees. He tilts his head as he looks at it, trying to remember if he's seen it before. Leaves rustle and Blaine turns. Another black tree is on the other side of the trail. Blaine finds himself raising his head, following he tree upwards.

They bend towards each other until they meet in the middle, high above him. They are not trees. They are legs. They meet and form a torso. A face stares down at him. It's white, and blank, but Blaine can feel it staring into him. Arms stretch out towards him and Blaine screams.

* * *

END OF PART TWO.

Thank you for reading! I was originally planning this in three parts, but now it doesn't look like that's going to work out. OH THE BEST LAID PLANS.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think it's leaving," Andrew whispers. Blaine _thinks_ it's Andrew, at least. It's too dark to really see.

Kurt, however, has a distinctive voice. "_Finally_."

"What?" Blaine's pretty sure that's Seth.

"Can't you hear it?" Andrew asks. "He's like, going away."

Blaine listens from his spot underneath a bush. The sounds of cracking branches definitely seem to be fading. "We should get out of here."

"No!" Blaine sees Seth stand up in the moonlight. "I'm supposed to _go_!"

"Seth, what're you _doing_?" Andrew stands as well, taking Seth's hand.

Seth shakes his head and twists his arm away. He cups his mouth with his hands.

Blaine gulps. "Seth, don't."

"_You're supposed to take me with you_!" He screams.

"Oh my god, are you _insane_?" Kurt hisses, trying to pull Seth back down.

"No, _no_." Seth's voice cracks. He ignores Kurt and begins to walk in the direction of the sounds. "I'm supposed to go with you."

"_Shit_," says Blaine, pushing branches out of his face as he crawls out from under the bush.

Seth picks up his pace, and soon he's running through the woods, Blaine, Andrew and Kurt running after him. He cries "_Take me with you_!" over and over again and Blaine dreads that it might listen and come back for him, or all of them. His lungs burn as he chases, calling out for him to stop.

Seth falls to his knees at the edge of a clearing. "Wait!" he says. "Wait, please!"

Blaine stops and looks around. The thing is nowhere to be seen, but that doesn't mean much. He tentatively goes up to Seth, whose body shakes as he sobs. He kneels down and puts a hand on his shoulder. "We have to go."

"But, but…" Seth sounds so _young_, so small and frail. "It's supposed to take me _home_."

* * *

Blaine pushes back against his assailant, but whoever it is tightens his grip on the bag around Blaine's head, pulling it closed and smothering him. Blaine grunts as he struggles, strong arms holding his own behind his back. He's thrown onto the bed and Blaine feels a body climb on top of him. For a moment, Blaine panics and thinks of the worst, kicking and screaming at the person pinning him to the bed.

The bag comes off, and a hand presses his face to the bed while another holds a knife to his throat. "_What are you doing here_?" the man snarls.

Blaine tries to turn his head to get a better look at him, but the man holds him in place. "I could ask the same of you."

"Don't be a fucking smartass," says the man. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Blaine winces as the blade nicks at his skin. "I'm looking for answers."

"You won't find them here." The man pulls the knife away and climbs off of him. "You'll find _nothing_."

Rubbing the tiny cut on his neck, Blaine sits up. The man faces away from him, standing over the desk. He slams the book closed, grabs it and hurries out of the room. Blaine bounces off the bed and runs after him, but the moment he leaves the room, a strange silence settles on the house.

He glances around the hall, kicking up the papers scattered around the floor. The man is gone. Blaine doesn't understand how he knows this, but he does.

* * *

Blaine sings to himself, holding onto Kurt as the buzzing in his ears grows louder. He can't quite remember all the words anymore, and the reason why he was singing in the first place is escaping him. He repeats the first line, trying desperately what comes afterwards. If he remembers the lyric, then maybe he'll remember why he needed to.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night… take these… take… Blackbird singing…_"

Kurt nuzzles up to him, his eyes still closed, smiling softly as he sings along. "_Take these broken wings and learn to fly… all your life…"_

It floods back into him, suddenly. The feelings, the realization, the _Oh, there you are_.

"I've been looking for you forever."

Blaine wishes the words were coming out of his mouth, but instead they seem to ring out from somewhere above him, a warped and deformed noise that sounds nothing like it should. He wants to throw up. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to _do_. He coughs.

Kurt's eyes open. For a moment, all he sees is Blaine, and he gives him a warm smile. Then his mouth falls in shock. "_No_."

Cupping his cheeks, Blaine pulls him closer and kisses him. Maybe they can go together. Maybe it will take them both and when they're gone, wherever they are, they can still hold each other in their arms. "I love you," he says.

"Blaine, don't let me go," he whispers. Kurt shudders, clinging to him. The buzz develops into a rumble. He buries his face into Blaine's shoulder.

"Never," Blaine says, as his vision warps and body goes numb. "Never."

* * *

"I know it has the ability to mess up the memories you have of the people it takes," Seth says, opening up an old photo album and laying it out on the library table. "But I also have reason to believe that that it can erase memories entirely."

Blaine shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Why would it do that?"

"No idea," says Seth. He pulls out a picture and hands it to Blaine. "But I don't remember taking this. I don't remember who that man is."

Blaine looks the photograph over. A sickly looking child stands in front of a man in a suit. He has his hands on the young boy's shoulders, as if he were holding him in place. "Maybe it's your dad," Blaine says with a shrug.

Seth snatches the picture away. "No. My father's a hick. This man is someone else."

"Has anyone told you that you're kinda classist?" Blaine asks, frowning. "Because you are."

"Shut up." Seth puts the photo back in its slot and pulls out another. "This is me sitting at a dock."

"Ok?" Blaine squints at it. Sure enough, the same sickly child sat with his legs swinging over the edge of the dock on a lake, his toes grazing the water.

Seth leans in. "I don't know how to swim. My sister never let me near anything larger than a bathtub. When did this happen? When was I ever at a lake? _I don't know_."

Blaine hands the photo back to him and glances over the other pictures in the book. "Hey, why do you always look like you have the flu?"

"Hm?" Seth frowns. "Oh. I guess I was just crying. My sister said I was chronically in tears at that age."

"Why?"

Seth ignores him. "Look at this." He pushes the book towards Blaine and points at another shot of him at the dock. He's standing now, waving at the camera and pointing to the woods behind him. "Look at that tree."

The hairs on Blaine neck prickle. "That is not a tree."

* * *

"What do you want?" Blaine asks. The figure jingles his keys, taunting him. "Why did you bring me here?"

"You were getting in the way," the figure says, matter of fact.

"In the way of _what_?" Blaine says, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I'm so tired of being confused, of all these secrets. I'm tired of waking up in random places, not knowing how I got there. This was supposed to be _over_."

The figure steps into the light. No matter how Blaine looks at it, he can't comprehend what he's seeing. Every time his eyes move, the figure changes. It's a man in a suit, a woman in a dress, a child, anything. Blaine turns away, the sight giving him a headache.

"You have a choice," it says. "You can leave this place, but you can never go home. Your family, your friends, they will all forget about you, and you will be free of this."

"And my other option?"

"You can keep getting in the way, and you will lose everything."

Blaine feels so heavy, his body so tired. He wants to go back to sleep. He wishes he were back in bed with Kurt, their arms wrapped around each other, safe and warm. Kurt is so beautiful when he sleeps.

"I can't," Blaine says, looking up. "I can't leave. I made a promise. Now, I don't know if this is something you can even begin to comprehend, but I _love_ him, and I will do whatever it takes to protect him."

* * *

Andrew kisses him again, sloppily. Blaine weakly tries to push him away, his head swimming. They shouldn't have drunk so much. This was stupid, he was _so_ stupid thinking they could get drunk and nothing incriminating would happen. Andrew's tongue invades his mouth and Blaine's mind goes blank. It takes one wet swipe across his own before Andrew is pulling away. He feels dizzy.

"W-what," Blaine says, the words jumbling up in his mouth. "What the hell what _that_ for?"

"Oh, come _on_," Andrew whines. His voice sounds rough and strained, like he's fighting against something. "Don't act like you don't know Seth and Kurt are doing the same thing."

Blaine spits, trying to get the taste of alcohol and Andrew out of his mouth. "They aren't! They're just friends, you know that!"

Andrew holds his hands over his ears and groans. "Stop it, stop it, _stop it_! Just go _away_." He crouches down for a moment, and Blaine backs away, confused. "Just leave us _alone_…"

Gulping, Blaine leans back against the deck railing. "Are you ok, man?"

"Yes." Andrew stands up, and suddenly he appears quite serene. He walks up to him and puts a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

He doesn't know why, but Blaine feels like someone is watching them. "It, um, it's ok. Just don't do it again."

Andrew smiles. "Of course not. Want another beer?"

"I think I'm good," says Blaine. He's pretty sure he's never going to drink again as long as he lives.

* * *

Blaine wakes up on a sofa in Kurt's living room. Kurt is curled up on his lap, talking to him. He can't remember coming here at all. Just a second ago he was running from that _thing_ in the woods and _oh god that is what's following Kurt_. It wasn't human. It was something _else_. Blaine plays with Kurt's hair, and even though he can't remember escaping or anything, he's glad they're ok for now.

"Sometimes," Kurt says. "Sometimes I feel like I'm outside myself, you know? Like, I'll be talking and having fun with people and suddenly I'll wish I could leave my body there and go somewhere else."

"Like where?" Blaine asks.

"I don't know, just somewhere far away."

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think it wants?" Blaine's voice wavers as he asks. It occurs to him that they might have already discussed this, and the conversation was lost along with his other memories.

Kurt sits up and looks at him. "What?"

"The thing," Blaine says, "the thing that's following you. What does it want?"

"Blaine." Kurt takes a deep breath. "I asked you not to bring it up again."

He shifts. "But I saw it!"

"_What_?"

"I saw it, Kurt!" Blaine says emphatically. "I was walking in the woods and there it was, just standing over me. I, I ran, and then…" He frowns. "And then I, I don't know. I was here."

"What're you talking about?" Kurt asks.

He rubs his eyes and looks away. "I don't remember getting here. I just, I just opened my eyes and I was here."

"This isn't funny. Blaine, you've been here for an hour!" Kurt cups his chin. "You've been talking with me the whole time!"

"I'm not kidding around." He shakes his head. "Shit, do you think it _did something_ to me?"

* * *

"Tell Andrew I'm sorry, that I was arrogant and stupid and I should have loved him like he deserved and…"

"You can tell him yourself."

"No, Blaine, I…"

"We are getting out of here. We getting out of here and we are going home."

* * *

"It's all fucking ruined," Mikhail says, tossing his brush at the canvas.

"Uh, sir, please calm down." Blaine has a hard time calling someone in the middle of a hissy fit _sir_, but he's Seth's employer and thus requires some amount of formality. "I really just want to know where Seth is. He isn't answering his phone and we're all really worried…"

"You think I know?" Mikhail asks, walking up to him and waving a pallet knife in his face. His glasses are askew and his long hair disheveled. "You think that ungrateful little shit would tell me where he goes?

Blaine takes a step back. The studio above the bookstore is covered with paintings he assumes were once beautiful like the one in the gallery, but now they've been ripped and painted over. "Maybe?"

"Do you have any idea what he is?" Mikhail snaps. "Do you have any idea what he _does_ to me?"

"I, uh…" Blaine swallows. A sexual relationship between them isn't impossible, but he'd rather not think Seth was sleeping with a man who was both is boss and over ten years his senior.

"All I wanted was a _muse_," he says, wiping his eyes and turning back to his canvas. Blaine finds the painting thoroughly unsettling. Long, black limbs restrain a white figure, twisting and contorting its body. He doesn't want to know who it is, even though he has a pretty good idea. "That was all I asked for, something beautiful to inspire me."

Blaine looks away from it, pushing down the lump in his throat. "Do you know where his brother in law might be?"

Mikhail sighs. He tells him, and Blaine nods, but all he can hear is white noise. It's becoming easier to recognize now, and he makes a note of it whenever it happens.

"Thank you for your time," Blaine says, and leaves the studio.

* * *

Kurt rests his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine has been thinking about this all day and leaps at the opportunity to ask. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Yeah?" he replies groggily.

"Do you think it was who slashed your tires?"

Kurt looks up and raises an eyebrow at him. "_Really_?"

"Yeah, really," says Blaine. "I mean, we never found out who did it, right?"

"True, but…"

"And it certainly seems to have a grudge against you, and…"

"Blaine," says Kurt, rolling his eyes. "It's an inter-dimensional alien demon monster thing. I'm sure it's above petty vandalism."

He shrugs, laughing. "It's just a theory."

END OF PART THREE.

* * *

_Shit's getting real, y/n?_


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine rewinds the footage labeled _Hummel Family Christmas 2002_, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Seth insists that the thing can be spotted in the background of his sister's wedding, leaving Kurt to wonder if he could see it somewhere in his own childhood as well, but he would rather not look for it himself. He associates these videos with happy memories, and doesn't want them to be tarnished.

Little Kurt unwraps a gift, and squeals in delight to find a porcelain tea set. Kurt's mother smiles and helps him open the box, while Burt laughs halfheartedly behind the camera. Blaine tries not to get distracted by how adorable Kurt looks in his little reindeer sweater and look through the house windows in each frame, but it's difficult.

_"Mommy!_" says the little boy, waving a scarf up at his mother. _"I wanna build a snowman!"_

_"Okay, Kiddo, let's get your coat first."_ she says.

The video cuts to them outside in the snow. Mrs. Hummel lifts Kurt up to place a carrot on the snowman's face. Blaine smiles and lets himself get lost in the moment, back when everything was so simple and uncomplicated. She swings him around in circles, inciting fits of giggles from her son. They turn to face the camera, the boy huddled in her arms, and Blaine is stunned by how much they look alike. He's seen that smile in Kurt a thousand times.

He's seen the way that smile falls. For a brief second, her expression turns grim, looking at something past the camera. It's the same look Kurt had when he saw something out the bus window on the way home from Regionals. Blaine closes his laptop and rubs his eyes. There might not be any footage of it, but the thing was still there.

* * *

"No, Blaine, I'm not going with you. I'm _done_. There isn't anything left of me, do you understand? I can't go home, because there isn't a _me_ to do so."

Blaine shoves him. "Stop making excuses, you _fucking coward_."

"Blaine, he's right, let's just leave him." Kurt says, stepping forward.

"I'm not leaving _any of us_, okay?" Blaine says. "We are all going home. We are all making it out of here alive."

* * *

"I can't _believe_ you!" Kurt says as Seth collapses against the sliding glass door in the back of his house. "You lecture _me_ about doing something stupid, and then you fucking _run after it_ like that? Are you _crazy_?"

"I'm sorry," Seth says thickly. His eyes are still red from crying.

Kurt shines the flashlight in his face and Seth winces. "You could have gotten us all killed."

He sighs. "I'm _sorry_, okay? I got carried away."

Blaine licks is lips and looks around. He feels like it's still there, watching them, but he's felt that way for at least a week now, with only a few brief encounters. Something tells him it's satisfied for the night. "Do you think Andrew will make it home all right?"

"He'll be fine," Seth croaks. "It doesn't want him."

"What the hell makes you think you know what it wants, huh?" snaps Kurt, throwing his hands in the air.

"What makes _you_ know, then?" Seth shakily stands back up. "What makes you think it would even kill us? What makes you think it would hurt us at all?"

"Guys," says Blaine. "Don't do this, not tonight…"

Kurt steps forward, his jaw set in fury. "Oh, you think it just took my mom on an eight year pleasure cruise?"

"That's not what I meant…"

"You think it took your sister," Kurt says, "and brainwashed you into thinking she died quick and painlessly because it's just _misunderstood_?" He rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Oh, _sure_! It all makes sense now! We should just give ourselves up to it! I'm sure if we just let it explain itself, it will come up with some really _compelling_ arguments!

"_I don't know who I am_!" Seth's eyes well up again. "I don't remember half my childhood. I can't even find my goddamn _birth certificate_! Whatever it is, whatever it wants, it could have all the answers."

Blaine sighs. "But, Seth, what if it doesn't?"

* * *

Seth sighs. "That's very noble of you."

"Thanks."

"Asinine, but noble."

"That's your favorite word, isn't it?"

"Shut up," says Kurt. "I think I hear something."

* * *

Turning over in his bed, Blaine stares at the clock on his nightstand. 4:32 AM. He hasn't slept a wink since he told Kurt what he saw. He's convinced that the moment he lets himself drift off, it will come for him, leaving Kurt alone and defenseless. He has no idea how he would actually defend his boyfriend from this _thing_, but Blaine knows he has to try. With a sigh he pushes back his covers and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.

He heads downstairs for an early breakfast. If his mother wakes up he'll tell her he's just going on a sunrise jog or something. Blaine squints as he opens up his fridge, the light hurting his eyes. Staring into it for a minute, he forgets what he even wanted to eat in the first place. Cereal? Scrambled eggs? Blaine closes the door.

What was he down here for again?

Blaine rubs his eyes and reaches for a cabinet to grab a glass. Some water should help clear his head. It's cool and clear going down, and Blaine wonders why he doesn't water more often, instead of coffee or soda. He places the glass on the counter and wipes his mouth. Something in his ear starts to buzz.

Thinking it's a fly, he waves his hand around the sides of his head. Blaine leans against the counter, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't _think_. He needs fresh air. Forcing his exhausted body to move, Blaine makes his way to the front door. He grasps the knob with every intention of turning it, but stops. The buzzing becomes louder. The hairs on his arms prickle as he opens the latch to look out the peephole.

Blackness stares back at him. Blaine steps back. He moves to the window but can't seem to make himself open the blinds. His hands shaking, Blaine locks the door and goes back upstairs. He can't do this tonight, today, this morning. He isn't sure if he can do it at all.

* * *

They all go silent for a moment, listening. A moment passes before Blaine lets out his breath.

He rubs his eyes, trying to think of a way to convince Seth to not give up. "It doesn't matter who you were or what you used to be, alright? All that counts are the decisions you make from here on out, the person you decide to be from now on. You'll get a clean slate, okay?"

"I don't _want_ a clean slate." Seth says desperately. "I don't _want_ to start over. I'm _staying_. This is where I belong."

"Is that what it told you?" Blaine asks. "Is this _home_, Seth? Is where you come from? Is this where you belong?"

Seth nods. "Yes."

"_Bullshit_," Blaine snaps. "You are not like them. You are _human_, you have _friends and family_, and most importantly you have Andrew."

"Hardly," Seth says.

"You love that boy, and don't you dare tell me otherwise," says Blaine.

"I won't."

Kurt swallows. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You made sure he wouldn't end up here with us."

"You have a responsibility to him, Seth," Blaine breathes. "He gave you his heart and his soul. Don't throw it away just because you're scared."

* * *

The figure tilts its head and frowns. "That is unfortunate."

"Give me back my keys," Blaine says, holding out his hand.

"Or what?" The figure asks.

Blaine swallows, thinking. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Of course not," it says. "It's not me you should be afraid of at all."

He takes a deep breath and steps forward. His eyes are closed, so can't look at it. The more he looks at it, the more his head hurts. "Give them back."

"We do not have to do this the hard way."

"Yes, we do." Blaine says. "You know we do."

He pries his eyes open and turns to face it. He takes another step forward, and then another. His legs feel like jelly but he can't stop. The closer Blaine gets to the figure, the less it _shifts_, staying in one form for a few, easy to look at seconds before changing. He's three feet away from it when it finally settles down.

"I know you're not really him." Blaine snaps, furious that it would even think that.

Seth shrugs. "Is there any difference? Nothing's really him anymore."

"What did you do to him?" The moment the words leave his mouth, he realizes he doesn't actually want to know, because whatever they did to his friend is whatever they're going to do to him and Kurt.

"It... well," Seth sighs. "It's complicated, Blaine. You have to understand that. You do, don't you?"

"Shut up," Blaine says, anger bubbling up in his stomach. "_Shut up_. Don't tell me that I have to _understand_. You have followed me, tormented me and my friends, taken their loved ones away for whatever goddamn _complicated_ reason, and I'm not fucking _taking it any more_."

Seth squints and kind of smiles at him. "That wasn't me."

"Don't act like-"

"No, no," says Seth, gesturing to something behind Blaine. "That was him."

Blaine turns around. On the far end of the parking lot it stands, its blank face staring, its arms dangling to the ground. Blaine's heart thumps and he look back at Seth. "Who are you?"

"Just a messenger," he says lightly. "Or, a translator, if you will. Goodbye, Blaine."

Seth starts to back away and Blaine's mouth goes dry.

* * *

"I couldn't do it," Andrew says.

Blaine holds his phone away from his ear for a moment, looking at it as if it were Andrew. He brings it back. "What?"

"I couldn't do it," he repeats. Either his voice is hoarse or Blaine has poor reception. "It came for him and I let it happen."

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asks.

Kurt furrows his brow at him from across the diner table. He's driven all the way up here in the middle of the night because he got a weird call from Seth and freaked out. Seth stopped answering his phone, so Blaine decided to try Andrew.

"I couldn't be there for him like you are for Kurt, man." He says. "I t-tried, but he, he wouldn't let me. He kept pushing me away and when the time came, there was nothing I could do."

Blaine gulps. "Andrew, tell me what happened."

"I can't," Andrew makes a noise, and Blaine can't tell if it's a laugh or a sob. "You know I can't. You won't hear any words, man."

"Just, just try, Andrew, please," Blaine looks up at Kurt, trying to appear as calm as possible.

Andrew sighs. "I don't even remember anymore."

The waitress approaches their table, filling their cups with coffee. Kurt nods politely and sips it, but his eyes remain transfixed on Blaine. "What happened?"

"Andrew?" Blaine says. All he can here is breathing on the other end. "Andrew, are you safe? Are you all right?"

"Seth said," Blaine can hear Andrew choke again. "Seth said to stay away, to stay out of the way."

"What _happened_?" Kurt asks again.

"I have to go," Andrew says. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Andrew, don't-" He hangs up. Blaine puts his phone away and rubs his eyes. Reaching across the table, Kurt takes his hand.

"Well?"

Blaine opens and closes his mouth his mouth for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "He thinks it took him."

Kurt slumps in his chair, covering his mouth with his hand. "_No_."

"But we don't know for sure, okay?" Blaine says. "We... we need to find out. Andrew's all disoriented, you know? Maybe he was just confused."

Kurt inhales deeply and wipes his eyes. "We need to go see him."

"What?"

"We need to go to Seth's house, just to make sure."

Blaine nods. "We'll do that."

* * *

Blaine is really getting tired of waking up in strange places and not knowing how he got there. This time it's the woods. Some forest of skeletal black trees with branches poking out at him like fingers. His nose is stuffy, and for a moment he thinks he's been crying, but when he wipes it, Blaine can tell it's blood in the moonlight. He raises his eyebrow at this. Perhaps he fought back this time.

He sits up, his back aching from lying on the cold, hard ground for so long. Running his fingers through his hair, he tries to think back to where he was before. He was in a parking lot. No, no, he was in bed with Kurt. He shakes his head. Which happened first? When did all of this start in the first place? Blaine stretches, and pushes himself up onto his feet.

At least in the parking lot he had a vague idea of what to do, but here, there's nothing. He stumbles, feeling a little light-headed. Blaine leans against a tree to recover. He hopes it's a tree, at least. He hasn't trusted trees in a while. He makes an attempt to stand up again, holding onto a low branch with one hand to steady himself.

He can't remember when he saw Kurt last. His eyes sting when he realizes he might have failed him. Knees buckling, Blaine falls. He'll probably die tonight as well. If it does anything to him, he wants it to just be death, and nothing else. Nothing _complicated_. Rubbing his now scraped elbow, Blaine looks up to the sky. There are no stars, just a full moon.

"If you're going to kill me," Blaine says aloud. "You might as well do it now." He's met with silence. He lies back down again, deciding he's too tired for this. Blaine wishes he could just fall asleep forever. Something moves in the trees. Blaine doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything anymore. He licks his lips and whispers, "Come and get it."

"H-hello?" a voice cries out from the darkness. A distinctive voice.

Blaine sits up. "Kurt?"

"_Blaine_?"

Scrambling to his feet, Blaine runs, calling out his boyfriend's name. He's here. He's _here_, and together they can beat this thing. Together they can make it home. He finds him, scuffed up and covered in dirt. Kurt leaps into his arms, shivering.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Blaine says, sniffling.

Kurt laughs. "Me too."

END OF PART FOUR.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

A woman drops a handful of coins into Blaine's guitar case as she walks by. He nods to her appreciatively as he sings, then turns to smile at Kurt as he twinkles away on the toy piano he found in a dumpster. The song ends and the small crowd gathered around them applaud. A few more coins and some bills are added to the case. Today has been particularly lucrative, and Blaine suspects it's been all the Beatle's songs they sing. Kurt's rendition of _Blackbird_is still as enchanting as ever. A man in a suit tosses in a fifty.

"Thank you, sir." Blaine says. "Do you have any requests?"

The man shrugs. "Know anything from _Rubber Soul_?"

Kurt and Blaine exchange a glance and immediately start playing.

"_I'm looking through you, where did you go?  
I thought i knew you, what did i know?  
You don't look different, but you have changed.  
I'm looking through you, you're not the same._"

He enjoys this more than he ever thought he would. It's hard. Sometimes they don't eat, and most of the time they sleep in Blaine's car, but they're together. Occasionally Blaine fantasizes that some big music producer will discover them busking and bring them to stardom, but there's something about the simplicity of street performance that he's getting increasingly attached to. These people stop and listen, clap and maybe donate all because they _want_to, because Kurt and Blaine are good. No popularity contests, nothing.

After the crowd dissipates, they count their earnings and organize it all into piles for gas, food, and other necessities. Kurt convinces him to let them treat themselves to some ice cream and take a walk around the park before moving on to their next destination, wherever that may be. Lacing his fingers with Blaine's, Kurt rests his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Do you think they're ok?" he asks.

Blaine frowns. "Who?"

"You know."

"Oh," he says. "I don't think about them at all, to be honest."

* * *

Blaine bangs on the door a few more times, personally finding that less obnoxious than pushing the doorbell over and over again. There are three cars in the driveway besides his own, and he's pretty sure someone has to be home. He steps back when he hears a click and the door opens. Andrew pokes his head out of the crack and glares at him.

"What do you want?" he asks.

Blaine tugs on his shirt, smoothing it out. "We have to talk."

"No way, man." Andrew says, pulling the door closed.

Catching it just in time, Blaine forces it back open. "_Please_. I need your help."

Andrew lets go of the handle and sighs, leaving Blaine hanging in the doorway. He can feel the air conditioning on his face while the sun pounds heat onto his back. Blaine's never seen the inside of Andrew's house before, but the foyer seems very clean and cozy.

Rubbing his eyes, Andrew shakes his head. "I can't, man. I'm sorry."

"But you have to know _something_." Blaine says, leaning forward into the house a little more.

"No, I don't," says Andrew. "Ever since this whole thing started, Seth has been, like, he's been…"

"Been what?" Blaine asks.

"You don't know what he _does _to me, man." Andrew looks at him and swallows. "You don't know and there's no way I can, like, explain it to you."

A woman's voice calls out from behind him. "Sweetie? Who's at the door?"

"No one, Mom." Andrew says, looking back. He turns to Blaine. "You'd better go."

He gets a weird feeling of déjà vu from this conversation, but he backs out of the door anyway. "I understand. I'll see you at school, alright?"

Andrew nods. "Sure."

The door shuts and Blaine stands silently on the Starkofsky porch for a few moments before returning to his car.

They hold one another for several minutes, reveling in each other's warmth. Blaine can't believe Kurt found him just as he wanted to give up on this altogether. He squeezes him, needing to feel that he's really there, really wrapped up in his arms. Pulling apart, Blaine just looks at him for a moment, taking him in.

"You're filthy," he says.

Kurt arches an eyebrow. "You're not looking too squeaky clean yourself."

Looking down at his once white shirt, he now sees that it's splattered with mud and dirt. "Well, what do ya know?"

"How long have you been here?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs. "I don't know. I've only been awake for maybe half an hour."

Kurt's eyes widen in frustration. "I've been wandering this creep fest for _ages_. It feels like it's been days."

"I'm sorry," Blaine says, lifting up his hand and wiping dirt off of Kurt's face with him thumb. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, ok? I'm gonna get us out of here, I promise."

Kurt smiles and hugs him again, holding him tight. "I hope so."

"Have you seen anything?" Blaine asks, nuzzling into his boyfriend's damp hair. "Anything that might tell us where we are or how we can get out?"

"I think, I think I might've seen _something_, but…" Kurt let's go of him and looks away. "I don't know if it was real or not. This place… it majorly fucks with your head."

Blaine frowns curiously. "What was it?"

Without a word, Kurt takes his hand, leading him through the trees. As they walk, it soon occurs to Blaine that this place is much stranger than he thought. There is no grass, only cold, black dirt. The twisted, skeletal trees have no leaves on them, just bare branches reaching out into the starless sky. Blaine feels like they're being watched, but he's felt that way for such a long time that he doesn't know if he should mind it or not. Kurt stops for a moment, looking around and squinting, and then pulls him to the left into another clearing.

Seth sits against a tree, staring out into space. Dried blood lines his nose, mouth and chin, along with more fresh trails leaking out from his ears. His hair has grown a bit longer, matted to his face and neck. For some reason, Blaine thought he looked taller. Blaine takes a deep breath and turns to Kurt.

"Is that…?"

"I think so," says Kurt. "I didn't want to talk to him, I thought he was, like, an illusion or something."

Blaine remembers the person who claimed to be a translator. "That's actually a fair assumption." He drops Kurt's hand and carefully approaches the boy. "Seth?"

Seth blinks.

Kurt crouches down next to him. "Can you hear us?"

His eyes flutter closed, his brow furrowed. Seth coughs, and Blaine realizes the stains on his mouth aren't blood when black liquid trickles out onto his chin. He stiffly lifts up a hand to wipe it off.

"Who?" He manages to choke out.

Blaine gets down on his knees and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Seth, it's Blaine and Kurt."

His eyes open and he looks at Blaine. "Oh. You."

* * *

Blaine closes every curtain and all the blinds in the house. He knows, he _knows _that if he or anyone else looks out a window, they will see it and it will see them and all will be lost. Thankfully his mother is already asleep, so he doesn't have to worry about her messing things up until the morning. Blaine quietly steps out of her room and closes the door. He closes his eyes and inhales. Now all he has to do is make it to his own room and hopefully sleep.

It's raining outside. Thunder booms above him and he gulps, trying not to let his growing paranoia get the best of him. Blaine just needs to go down the hall, across the living room and upstairs to his bedroom, and he will be ok. It's not in the house. It's not in the house because he locked all the doors the moment his mother came home from work. It will not be waiting for him behind some dark corner.

The house was already pretty quiet, but when lightning crashes and the power goes out, the low hum of air conditioning is silenced, and an eerie stillness comes over the place. Blaine puts his hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart. He can find a flashlight in the kitchen. He just has to get to the kitchen first. That involves moving.

Another clap of thunder and Blaine is paralyzed, glued to the wall outside his mother's bedroom. _Kitchen, flashlight, bed_. He screams the words in his head, but his feet refuse to move. Cringing, he knocks his head against the wall, hating himself for not even having the courage to journey across his own goddamn house. It's times like these he wishes he had a dog. An Irish setter or something that could accompany him through the halls, and then curl up in his bed next to him, to provide protection and comfort.

Blaine inches his foot forward, sliding it across the carpet. He takes a deep breath and lifts himself off the wall. _Kitchen, flashlight, bed._Feeling like he's walking through water, Blaine forces himself down the hall and into the living room. He steadies himself on an armchair and gulps. Just a few more feet to the drawer next to the fridge he's sure contains a flashlight. He feels around with his hands, carefully maneuvering around the furniture. Collapsing against the kitchen archway, Blaine slides his hard up and down the wall until he finds a light switch and flicks it. Power's still out.

He makes his way over to the counter and opens a few drawers, sticking his hand in, ready to grasp the cold metal light he needs. His fingers close around it when he hears a creak. Blaine freezes and a lump forms in his throat. Feeling eyes boring into the back of his head, he presses the button to turn it on. He swings himself around and shines the light in the intruder's face.

Blaine's mother squints and covers her eyes. "What are you _doing_?"

"Oh, jeez, _Mom_," he says, letting out a sigh of relief. Blaine rushes over and gives her a hug.

"You ok?" she asks, patting his hair.

He feels like such a baby, but his mother's arms feel like better protection right now than some dumb dog ever would. Guilt washes over him, as he knows that if something ever happened to him, if that _thing_ever got to him, she would be left all alone in this world, filled with false memories of how he died.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, pulling away. "Just, uh, the storm, you know?"

She looks at him incredulously. "Is my seventeen year old son afraid of _thunder_?"

"No," he says. "I'm just being paranoid."

Running a hand through his curls, she smiles. "You get to bed, alright?"

"Yeah, Mom," Blaine nods. "Love you."

"Love you too, Baby."

He spends the night with his covers over his head, flashlight tucked under his pillow.

* * *

Blaine fiddles with the napkin in his hands, folding and unfolding it. He gave up trying to decipher whatever it is that he wrote on it a while ago, and now he's just listening while Kurt argues with Seth, and Andrew stuffs his mouth with pasta. Blaine has lost his appetite, and his plate sits in front him, cold and unappealing.

"I'm not going to go looking for it," Kurt says, stabbing a piece of grilled chicken with his fork. "I'm going to ignore it until it goes away."

Seth pats at his mouth with a napkin. "But it _doesn't_ go away, can't you see that? It comes and it takes and it returns to where ever it originates…"

"In other words, _it goes away_."

"And it comes back," Seth says, glaring. "And takes again."

Blaine starts to tear his napkin into little pieces.

"Where do you think it comes from?" Andrew asks through a mouthful of bread.

Kurt shrugs. "Don't know, don't care."

"I have a theory," says Seth, "that it comes from an alternate dimension."

Blaine looks up when he hears the clank of cutlery slamming onto a plate.

"And what do you have to base _this_on?" Kurt asks, rolling his eyes.

Seth waves his hand in the air dismissively. "It was a subject my sister had been particularly interested in."

"Oh, really?" says Kurt. "That's nice. You know who _wasn't _interested in that shit? My mother, and yet it still got her."

"Well, we don't actually know what its motivations are…" Seth adds, frowning.

Blaine chews the inside of his cheek. "What do you think it is?"

"It doesn't _matter_," says Kurt, stabbing at his chicken again.

"It most certainly _does _matter," says Seth. "I have reason to believe it is an inter-dimensional being."

Andrew swallows. "What's the difference between and inter-dimensional being and trans-dimensional being?"

"Oh, _do_ tell us, Seth," says Kurt, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "You obviously know _so _much about the subject."

"Well, uh…" Seth visibly struggles to articulate whatever the distance actually is.

Blaine reaches out and puts a hand on Kurt's wrist. "Leave him alone, Kurt."

He hates how much they've been fighting. Seth and Andrew have been having relationship problems, even if they won't admit it, and now Kurt is jumping on Seth's every word. Blaine can't help but think that whatever this thing is, or what it wants, it's tearing them all apart somehow.

Kurt sinks in his seat and sighs. "It's _evil_."

Seth pokes at his salad. "We don't actually know…"

"No," says Kurt. "It's evil. That's all it is, nothing more, nothing less."

* * *

Hoisting Kurt onto his back, Blaine tucks his hands under his knees while letting his boyfriend's arms dangle on either side of his neck. Kurt's dead weight causes his knees to buckle and Blaine stumbles around for a few feet before regaining his footing. Blaine starts to walk.

He has no idea where he is going, but he knows he must continue onward. His nose is still pretty stuffy from his nosebleed earlier, but the blood on his lips and chin is mostly dry. He blinks, and then opens his eyes as wide as he can, struggling to keep himself awake. Kurt mumbles something in his ear and weakly clutches onto his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Blaine picks up the pace. There is no giving up. As they travel deeper and deeper into the woods, the trees become thicker, their boney branches scratching at them from all sides. Blaine does his best to ignore all the little nicks and cuts forming on his skin, choosing to focus on Kurt's heartbeat at his back. As long as it's still going, as long as he is still breathing, Blaine has reason to go on.

Each step is heavier than the last. His feet feel like they've been encased in concrete as he drags them across the cold, hard ground. He hunches over, shifting Kurt in order to tighten his grip on him. Pain shoots up his spine and Blaine stops, supporting himself against a tree. He takes a moment to catch his breath and keep going. He counts his steps in order to convince himself that he's making some sort of progress, but he always looses track around twenty-eight and has to start over.

His knees ache with every bend. His muscles are stiff and sore, begging him to release the pressure on his body, the weight he carries on his back. It occurs to him that he could put Kurt down, lay him on the ground and leave him there. Kurt might want that for all he knows. He could go on without him and escape so much sooner. Blaine could probably live without him. He was just a high school sweetheart; it wasn't like they were going to work out in the long run or anything. Maybe Seth was right, and the thing was after them because they _belonged_ there, misplaced somehow from time and space.

Blaine reaches a clearing and shakes his head. A familiar buzzing fills his ears and he dismisses any thought of leaving Kurt behind. It's not an option; it has never been an option. From the moment he saw the boy on the stairs at Dalton, Blaine wanted to take his hand and lead him to better things, whether it was an impromptu Warbler performance, or just a safer environment to live in. Kurt does something to him. He triggers something in his soul, his brain, and his heart. Colors are brighter when Kurt is around. Blaine can't let those colors go, not for a second.

After taking another few steps, nausea envelops his stomach and Blaine has to stop, if only to keep himself from throwing up. He knows it, they or whoever is doing this to him on purpose, trying to get him to give up.

"I won't stop," he says aloud, knowing that they can hear him.

"I'd highly recommend it. Your body isn't going to take this much longer."

Blaine looks up to see Seth. It's not the same Seth he and Kurt found back in the woods, the broken and decaying boy that was once their friend. This Seth is crisp and clean, light radiating off him like a star.

Clenching his eyes shut, Blaine grits his teeth. "You are not real."

"That isn't important right now."

His eyes still closed, he steps forward. Maybe if he ignores this forgery, he can get past it. He hears it sigh.

"You have one last chance, Blaine. One last chance before it's too late."

Blaine counts his steps again. If he can make it to fifteen, he'll open his eyes again.

"Please, he isn't worth it."

"_Shut up_!" Blaine snaps, turn his head around and looking at him. He only made it to four.

Seth blinks at him for a moment before shrugging. His light fades, and he steps back into the trees behind him. Blaine gulps and faces forward, but stops dead in his tracks. It's there. He can't quite see it but he knows it's there. It moves in the moonlight, its long limbs blending in with the skinny tree trunks. The buzz turns into a shriek and Blaine twists his neck in pain, fighting the urge to let go of Kurt to cover his ears and block out the infernal noise.

Falling to his knees, the nausea returns and Blaine knows it's coming. The sickening sound of snapping branches grows louder and louder as it approaches. He feels the pull again, and his memories flood his mind. Kurt attempts to make sensual expressions in the mirror with Blaine. Kurt knows his coffee order at the Lima Bean. Kurt berates him for agreeing to go out with Rachel. Blaine chokes out a sob. He doesn't want to forget. If he's going to die, at least let him keep this, these moments with Kurt, good and bad. Kurt helps him pick out an outfit for Rachel's party. He sings with Kurt at Breadstix, and then in the common room around Christmas time.

He keels over, letting Kurt slide off his body and roll onto the ground. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he reaches over to take Kurt's hand. He sees Kurt swallow and then he blinks at him, his pale eyes shining in the night. They hold onto each other as a glacial wind glides over them. Kurt cries on his shoulder and tells him that was the first kiss that counted. Kurt confesses that his school life is unbearable. Kurt beams at him as Blaine sings _Teenage Dream_.

Blaine sees Kurt on the stairs and…

Legs stand over him, paper-white arms reaching up to the sky as the thing towers above them. He hears this newcomer shout, but Blaine can't understand what he's saying. It's so cold and his body is so sore and his eyelids are so heavy. He coerces himself to gaze upwards and get a better look at this person who keeps screaming. Maybe he'll stop and Blaine can finally go to sleep.

Seth, his cheeks hollow and his hair long and tangled, glances down at him and says something, but Blaine can't hear. The wind roars in his ears, and Blaine isn't sure if he can see or feel anything real anymore. A long, tentacle-like arm reaches out from the trees. It grabs Seth by the neck and lifts him up into the air. Blaine feebly thrusts out his hand, grasping at Seth's dangling feet. His fingers brush at the cold, wet skin before the awful, elongated arm retracts, bringing the boy with it.

The wind stops, and silence fills the air. Blaine closes his eyes.

* * *

Kurt nudges him awake. Blaine stares at him for a moment before jolting upright. They're in his car, at a rest stop somewhere on the highway. Warm sunlight pours through the windows, and Blaine looks around to see people wandering the grass and cars parked in every space. He turns back to Kurt. He's still covered in dirt, and Blaine looks down to see that he is just the same. He shifts in his seat, and he feels something poke him through his pocket. He reaches in and pulls out his car keys. Clutching them in his hands, he lets out a sigh of relief.

"We, we can clean up in the bathrooms, right?" Kurt asks.

Blaine looks up at him and smiles. "Yeah, yeah, we can do that."

They get a few stares as they climb out of the car and make their way to the bathroom. They go into a handicapped stall and scrub themselves raw with hand soap and paper towels. Blaine relishes in every touch of Kurt's skin. It's warm and dry, with a pale redness underneath. Wiping of the last bit of muck from the back of his boyfriend's neck, he presses a kiss to his shoulder. He meets Kurt's eyes in the mirror and he wraps his arms around Kurt's waist.

"I love you," he says.

Kurt gives him a small smile. "I love you, too."

They finish up and go back outside. They spend several minutes looking at a map of Ohio hung up on a wall next to a vending machine. A truth Blaine doesn't really want to admit is bubbling up inside him, and he hopes Kurt won't ask.

He does so anyway. "So how do we get home?"

"We, um," Blaine touches the map with his hand and his eyes sting. "We don't."

"What?" Kurt stares at him. "Why not?"

Blaine doesn't know how he knows, but the fact remains that he does. "We can't. They, they've forgotten about us by now."

He turns to face Kurt, who wipes his eyes and leans against the machine. "It, it's not fair. It's not _fair_."

"I know," Blaine says, putting a hand on his cheek. "But, we're ok. We're out and, and we're alive."

Kurt takes a deep breath and puts a hand over Blaine's. "So where do we go from here?"

"Anywhere, I guess." Blaine says. "Where ever we want."

"Ok," says Kurt. He lifts himself off of the machine and hugs him, burying his face in his neck. "Do you think it's over?"

"No," says Blaine, truthfully. "But I think we'll be ok for now."

THE END.

Thank you all _so, so_ much for reading. I appreciate all of your support. Check out my profile for a link to a cohesive timeline for the story.


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